Changing the Past
by Seventh Sunset
Summary: What would have happened if Claire never agreed to participate in the time machine experiment? A look at what might have been if Claire went back and changed the past. LaytonXClaire. Complete.
1. Changing The Past

Chapter 1— Changing the past

* * *

Claire slowly walked away. She could hear the footsteps of Luke as he ran after her, and she glanced being her shoulder ever so slightly to see he had stopped. Faintly, she heard him shout to the professor, "She's gone!" Then, silence. Nothing but her, the darkness, and the ringing of the professor's last words in her head: _I don't want to have to say goodbye again, I can't, I WON'T!"_

Clutching her hand against her heart, she whispered, "I didn't want to say goodbye either, Hershel. But I must, I must…" As she walked, she could feel tears forming. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop them. Snow had started to fall, and Claire shivered, not only from the cold, but just the sheer sight of it at a time like this. Snow, to her, symbolized happiness, a time of cheer. Snow symbolized being together with family, being together with the ones you loved…

She shook her head, the tears finally streaming down her face. She walked to a wall, and sat down, letting the cold of the snow-sprinkled ground consume her. Any second now, she would be sent back to her original time, merely seconds before the catastrophic failure of the time machine experiment, the one that had caused the massive explosion that supposedly claimed her life, and the lives of so may other innocent people around the building.

_Why did it have to come to this? _She thought, her vision beginning to swim before her eyes, her head becoming very light. _There's been so much pain, so much suffering. Clive's family…he lost them in that tragedy…Hershel became obsessed with finding out what had happened. This explosion destroyed, manipulated, so many lives. _At that moment, she felt extremely dizzy. Her surrounding became fuzzy, and then, everything went black. _Please, _she thought desperately, knowing what was happening, trying to resist the feeling of being pulled in by a giant vacuum. _Please! Give me one more chance! Let me change everything, let me have another try! _Suddenly, the vacuum feeling overwhelmed her, and she lost all feeling, as if it was just her thoughts, floating in mid-air. Then she saw a pinhole of light. It became larger, then suddenly…

"Claire! Come read this article." Hershel's voice wafted to her as Claire sat at her desk, dumbfounded by what had just happened. She looked around her, making sure everything was real, that this wasn't some insane illusion of her mind. Confirming everything around her _was_ real, her heart skipped a beat. She knew where she was: not in the time machine awaiting the explosion, but in her own room, sitting at her own desk reading a note. She looked at the note and immediately recognized it. She had read it so many times she could practically recite it:

_Claire,_

_You may be surprised that I'm sending you a letter, due to the fact we work in the same laboratory, but I didn't want anyone to eavesdrop on this important conversation. You see, Bill Hawks and I have made a, as we like to think, breakthrough invention. After months and moths of designing, arguing, constructing, deconstructing, wiring and finalizing, we have finally accomplished what we hope to be the first ever working time machine! I know it sounds extremely fantasy like, highly improbable really, but that's what we need to prove: that it actually works. We have already made plans with a major corporation that would like to see and possibly invest in the time machine. But what they request is that a demonstration be made, and that's what I would like to talk to you about. Please meet me in my office around 12: 00 p.m. on the 23__rd. _

_Yours Truly,_

_Dimitri Allen_

Looking up at the calendar that hung on her wall, Claire gasped. _Today_ was the 23rd! She then shifted her gaze to the clock that hung next to the calendar that read: 11: 40 a.m. _I have another chance _she thought happily._ I have another chance!_

"Claire! I must show you this, come quickly!" Claire smiled, relishing the feeling of hearing Hershel's voice, eager, curious, but full of love with a hint of a gentlemanly air.

She walked down the hall to find him sitting in an armchair, holding a newspaper. "Hershel, what is it, what did you want to show me?"

He looked up at her, eyes glinting. "See this article? Two psychiatric patients were caught playing Russian roulette. One of them was about to pull the trigger when the doctor stopped them. If he had pulled the trigger, the man would have been killed. It's just made me think of a puzzle slightly similar to the situation described in this article…would you care to hear it?"

Claire smiled, nearly laughing at the eagerness his face so clearly expressed. Hershel always had a puzzle for everything. Sitting on the arm of the chair she said, "Oh, I suppose. What is this puzzle of yours?"

"Ha-ha, excellent. Here it goes: there are two men playing a game of Russian roulette. The first man puts a single bullet in the gun, and spins the barrel. He pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. Before he gives the gun to his opponent, he asks if he would like the barrel spun again. If the other man wishes to live, should he have the barrel spun or not?"

Claire nodded. _My, this is a puzzle of extreme thinking. _She summed up all the possibilities. If the barrel was spun, there would be six chambers, and one of them would contain a bullet, making it unsafe. The probabilities of survival were 5/6. If the barrel was _not _spun, since the trigger was pulled once, there would be 5 chambers left, and only four of them would be safe. The possibilities of surviving would be 4/5. She looked at Hershel, and explained this reasoning. Then, she delivered her answer: "You see, out of the two possibilities, option one has the best chance of survival. If the man wishes to live, he _should _have the barrel spun."

"Excellent job, my dear. That is exactly right!" Hershel stood up and gave Claire a kiss. She smiled, so happy that she hadn't been sent back to the explosion. Then, she saw the time.

"Oh! It's 11:50! I have to meet someone in ten minutes to discuss some business, but we'll talk more at dinner, all right?" Hershel nodded as Claire grabbed her coat and dashed out the door. _This is it, _she thought, heart racing, _time to change the past._


	2. Refusal and Acceptance

Chapter 2- Refusal and Acceptance

* * *

Claire rapped her knuckles against the wooden door. Inside, she heard a slightly airy voice call, "Yes, yes, come in."

"Hello, Dimitri." Claire said, smiling as she walked in. Not twenty minutes ago, he had been a man with overlong hair, and a hollow face. Now, she was staring at the younger Dimitri Allen, his one bit of wavy bang covering his eye, and his face still young and eager…the only thing that _hadn't _changed was his overlong hair!

"Ah! Claire, you received my letter then, I presume. Please, have a seat, would you care for anything? How have you been lately?"

"Yes, Dimitri, I received your letter, and some water would be nice, thank you, and I've been feeling slightly shaken, but slightly better now," she said, answering his string of questions. She settled down in the plastic chair, and sipped the water Dimitri had gotten for her. "So, the letter…it said something about a time machine?"

Dimitri's eyes lit up. "Yes. You see, the blueprint orders you've been bringing to us, they were all solely for the construction of the machine itself. We had to rely on some of our trusted colleagues for the technical aspect of it. But, Claire…we need to see if it actually works. Before the corporation I mentioned in the letter comes, we need to do a practice demonstration. For that, just a simple object won't do, we need an actual, living person."

He paused, and she sucked in a breath. "What…what are you trying to say, Dimitri?"

"Claire, I would like to request that _you _assist us in this experiment. That you help us prove time travel is not indeed _impossible, _as so many have labeled it." The look in Dimitri's eyes was so determined, so strong…almost on the verge of insanity.

Claire felt herself tense up. _That look_, she thought, _I never realized how passionate he was about this. I agreed because…I myself was interested in the very idea. But…I must do what I came here to do. _"Thank you for…that incredible offer Dimitri. But, I don't think I'll be able to accept it, I'm truly sorry."

His face fell, and for a moment, he stared at her, almost as a child waits for their friend to say "just kidding!" after they deliver impossibly horrible news. "B-but…Claire. Do you even know what this could do for us? Me, you, Bill, we could go down in history! The first people ever to create an actual working time machine!"

She sighed, almost wishing she hadn't come here at all. "I know, Dimitri, but as glorious as it sounds, I have to decline. You might think it's perfectly fine, but who knows? What if a wire is loose or there's one small problem in the system during the experiment? It could turn into a catastrophe…the whole thing could…it could literally _blow up!_" she put a little more emphasis than she would have liked on the last two words, but she had made her point clear, and caught Dimitri's attention.

He walked around the desk to stand right next to her. He took a hold of her shoulders, and said, "Claire, please. This is so important. If you saw how much money these people are offering us for this one demonstration—"

"_Money_? So that's what this is about, you don't even care about who helps with the demo, do you?" Claire's face flushed as she continued, "All you care about is the media coverage and money, that's the only things you've talked about so far, not how this could affect anyone else. As long as you get you're fame and fortune, who cares who gets hurt during the process!" She pulled herself away from his grasp, "The answer is no Dimitri, good day!"

She stormed out of the office, "Why didn't I see this sooner?" she spoke angrily to herself, "all he ever cared about was his benefit!" _You know that's not true, _a voice in her head said to her,_ he was the first one to try and stop Bill and save you that day, remember? _She just shook her head, "What's done is done. I accomplished what I came to do." Then, she smiled. The explosion would never happen; it would never have the chance to destroy so many lives. Now, she and Hershel could spend all the time they wanted together.

* * *

"Oh it's just beautiful, Hershel!"

He gave a little chuckle as she pulled an elegant stopwatch from the box. "Picking out the right present can be quite the puzzle."

Claire smiled, and replied, "Well, lucky for me, every puzzle has an answer. Isn't that what you always say?"

"Yes, well," Hershel said, then paused to take a sip from his wineglass. "I've been thinking…"

"Go on."

"If I were to, get the teaching job then we…" he trailed off, almost embarrassed to continue.

"I'm listening, Hershel, tell me about these plans of yours!" She was eager to see if he would actually say what was on his mind this time.

He looked a little surprised, like he assumed she had just been half interested. "Oh, 'twas nothing! Now, let's eat before our food gets cold."

"Hershel, that's no fair. I want you to tell me what you're thinking, cold food or not."

He just looked at her, then spoke quietly, "Claire, I…I love you, so much. If I were to get the teaching job, I might actually have enough money to buy a real house instead of the simple flat I have at the moment. I'm afraid, however, that it would be awfully lonely if I were to live there by myself. Would you…consider joining me?"

Claire was filled with a delightfully warm feeling. Up to this point, she and Hershel had lived in separate flats, and occasionally, they would stay at each other's homes (they had an extra bedroom set up for this purpose.) but now, they could actually live together, and the thought made Claire extremely happy. "Oh, Hershel I think that's an excellent idea!"

"Wonderfull! My, I feel much better having that off my chest." He smiled, "now, let's eat; the food has already become lukewarm!"

She smiled, and as she began to work on her plate, she thought to herself, _this is turning out to be better than I expected! Honestly, can anything _possibly _go wrong?_


	3. Flaws

_**Hey everyone! I know it took awhile for this chapter (writer's block!) but I just wanted to take a few sentences to say that I really appreciate all of your comments. Knowing I have a few people who enjoy this story, I'm really excited to continue with it, although there's only one or two more chapter left, (not sure if I should do an epilogue, should I?) Any-who, hope you enjoy the next chapter!**_

* * *

Chapter 3- Flaws

* * *

Claire jubilantly whistled along with the teakettle on the hot-plate while bacon and eggs simmered in a skillet on the stove. I had been almost three weeks since she had been given a second chance to rewrite her past, and only two days after what _would _have been the date of the horrid explosion. So far, everything was going perfectly. _To think of how much I've changed for the better._

In the past week, not only had she been promoted in the laboratory, but she had seen the most amazing sight on television: A young boy had won a writing contest, and the paper had been so amazing, that he had been given the privilege to read it in front of the White House. The winner had been none other than a younger version of Clive Dove. And, the best part of the whole three weeks: Hershel had gotten the teaching job! Although he didn't start for another week, Claire planned to get him a present today.

"My," Hershel said as he walked into the kitchen. Claire smiled as he rewarded her hard work with a warm embrace and hug. "Claire, you have outdone yourself this morning. I would have been fine with just simple biscuits and tea."

"Just think of it as a way of congratulating you on your achievements, hm?"

He smiled as she handed him a steaming mug of Earl Grey, "Well, at least let me set the table."

"It's a deal, _Professor Layton._" She said, knowing she would be the first to call him that.

"I do like the sound of that," he said, fixing them both plates of food and setting them on the table, "I think it's quite… _catchy_, don't you agree?"

* * *

Claire happily walked home from work. Being the new president of the laboratory was quite tiring, but also slightly uplifting. She turned the corner, greeting a kind elderly couple as she walked by. She soon arrived at her destination: McClevenger's Fine Hats and Dress Wear.

The door's bell jingled as she walked in, signaling her arrival. Amidst the countless assortment of hats, suits, evening gowns, jewelry and dress shoes, a middle-aged man in a pair of spectacles, black trousers, and a white shirt with a pinstriped vest walked out. "Hello and good afternoon, Mrs. Claire. How may I assist you."

Claire smiled, "Hello, Oliver. I had spotted a hat in your window just the other day: a dark brown top hat with an orange ribbon just above the brim. Could I possibly take a look at it?"

Oliver McClevenger's face fell, "Oh, my. If only you had come just a few days earlier. A customer has already purchased the hat, Claire."

Claire stared at him, processing his words. "I-it's…already been bought?"

"I'm afraid so, my dear."

_That's impossible! _She thought frantically, _it's his…well, _will _be his signature hat! _"Are you sure you don't have another like it?"

Oliver shook his head, "I'm sorry, Claire. That was the only one. May I interest you in a different on, perhaps?"

"N-no, that's alright, Oliver, I was looking at that one specifically. Thank you for telling me though. Good day." Without another word, she turned away and left the shop. Walking home felt like a slow process. The hat was supposed to be the present. Sure, she had originally bought and given it to him on the day of the explosion, but she had decided to wait a few days. Now she cursed this decision. "Now what should I get him?" she asked herself out loud, and, with a sigh, did not bother to think of an answer.

* * *

"Claire?"

"…"

"Claire, have I… done something?"

Claire snapped out of her _maybe-pushing-my-peas-around-my-plate-will-get-my-mind-off-today_ daze and said, "Hm?"

"You've been acting strange ever since you got back from work. Did something happen there? Did I do anything wrong?"

Blinking for a moment, she realized her non Claire-like glumness had been accidentally displaying itself throughout dinner. Forcing a smile, she said, "Oh, heh, no, Hershel. Just a bit tired from the new position at work is all." It was a half lie half truth.

"Well why don't you lie down then? I'll clear the dishes." He said, reaching over and placing his hand on top of hers. She nodded, and slowly rose from her chair. She went over to her room (they were at her house tonight), and flopped onto her bed. Just a she eased her eyelids shut, a loud doorbell made them snap open again.

_Who could that be at this hour of night? _She thought as she got up and went over to the door. Opening it, she was greeted by the mailman.

"Packages for Claire," he said, displaying both a pair of packages and a clipboard. "Please sign on the paper." Obliging to the request, the mailman handed her the delivery. "Have a good night, ma'am," and with that, he was off. Claire curiously looked at the labels:

**Hershel Layton **

**Claire Foley**

"Hershel, come here for a moment."

"What's this?" He asked, coming to her side. As Claire handed him the package, he just stared at it in bewilderment, "Who on earth delivers mail at 7:30 at night?" After inspecting it, he carefully tore the paper and opened the box. "Oh ,my. Claire, Take a look at this."

Claire took her eyes off her own package and gasped when she saw what Hershel held in his hand: A black top hat with a deep blue ribbon just above the brim.

"My, isn't this handsome. I wonder who could have sent it…wait, there's a note." Fishing around, he pulled a slip of paper from the box."

"What does it say?" Claire asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.

Hershel cleared his throat, and read aloud:

"_Dear Hershel Layton,_

_Hello, you might be wondering who would send you a hat like this, and I do admit I would be surprised too. I don't think you remember me, since we haven't seen each other since our high-school graduation. This is Dimitri Allen, and I happen to work in the same laboratory as Claire."_

Pausing, he made a face as if trying to remember something, then snapped his fingers. "Ah! Yes, he was my lab partner! Hm, I had wondered what happened to him." Claire couldn't say anything but stare in utter shock at the slip of paper in his hand.

He started again, "_For the past few weeks, some of my colleagues and I have been working on an experiment some might call… impossible: a real working time machine. Now, you probably are slightly baffled by why I would be telling you this, and, trust me, this isn't just for show. A company has taken some interest in our project, and would like to see if our so called 'time machine' actually works. After making a few key modifications and running some small-scale test runs, we believe we are ready for the main presentation/ test run. For this, however, we need an actual living human being. Claire talks about you quite a lot at work, so I thought I might ask you if you were consider taking the job. The company is offering us quite a handsome sum of money, and of course you would get your fair share if all goes well. As for the hat…consider it a gift from an old lab partner. If you decide to take part in the experiment, please come to the laboratory on Saturday at around 4:00 p.m. for the experiment. You will, of course, have to sign a waver, but I think it is worth the glory this project will get. Hopefully you will think the same too. _

_Sincerely, _

_Dimitri Allen_

Silence. Claire's head reeled. Things had plummeted from perfect to bad, and now, bad to worse.

_Dimitri,_ _you lunatic! _She angrily thought, _I already refused you, so what is the meaning of asking my… _she thought of a more adult word, but only came up with: _my boyfriend! What sort of revenge _is _this? _

"My…" Hershel began, placing the letter on the coffee table and picking up the hat. "This is quite an impressive offer."

"Darling…y-you…aren't actually thinking of participating…are you?"

"Actually, I am. This money could be what buys us our house, Claire, isn't that our goal for now?"

"I…yes." She said, hanging her head. No matter how much she yearned to, she couldn't bring herself to deny him. She burned with anger towards this unthinkable act Dimitri had committed. Out of all the women employees at the laboratory (most of which thought him to be quite attractive and would have agreed to his offer at the drop of a pin), he had targeted her. She looked at him examining the hat…the hat that should have been _her _hat. "Are you going to wear it?"

Turning it around, he made a frown, "Hmm, I don't particularly care for top hats. I don't know."

"Try it on at least."

He sighed, "All right, for you." Taking off his red cap, he placed the new hat atop his head. Claire drew in a breath: he looked like the professor she had seen only a few weeks ago, just…with a different top hat.

Swallowing, she managed to croak out the line she had said about her own hat, "I-it suits you, it really does!"

He smiled, "you think?"

"The image of a true gentleman."

He smiled. "I suppose I'll be wearing it to the experiment, eh?"

Claire gave a painful nod. _As much as I hate the idea of him meeting the same fate as me, I'll let everything run its course. Who knows: maybe this will change things for the better?_

"Claire, have you opened your package yet?"

She looked down at the dull brown box still clutched tightly in her palms. "Oh, heh, I'd forgotten about this." She gave it a small shake, and then, turned around. After she ripped the paper and lifted the lid off the box, she felt her stomach sink.

"What is it?" Hershel asked, peering over her shoulder.

"I...i-its…" she couldn't manage to speak. _ What could this possibly mean? How…could he know?_

In the box was the same hat she had worn while spying on Hershel and Luke as they prowled the streets of the city Clive had built, and, next to it, a single note:

_Thank you for the rejection, Claire. After you denied my offer, I checked the machine and found a small and almost unnoticeable error. If I had not fixed it, the whole machine could have exploded, causing unimaginable devastation to the surrounding area. _

"That bastard," she whispered, reading the last line as she clutched the paper so hard it made a small tear where each of her fingers where.

_I promise, the past will not re-write itself._

_The highest regards,_

_Dimitri Allen_


	4. Success is Bittersweet

_**Note From the Author: Wow…I can't believe it! This story's almost done! Only about one, maybe two chapters left, and **__**Changing the Past**__** will be over! :( I might do an epilogue, but I don't know if I should or not, should I? **_

_**Oh well, epilogue or no epilogue, I'm so happy with all the comments, favorites, and story alerts I've received. It makes me feel great that you guys really enjoyed the story! Thank you. **_

_**And now, chapter 4!**_

* * *

Chapter 4- Success is Bittersweet

* * *

"Are you _sure _you're ready, Hershel?"

"My dear, I am as sure as can be." He smiled and gave her a warm peck on her ice cold cheek. That's how she had felt all day: cold. She feared for every possible error that could occur and harm Hershel. _All I wanted was to rewrite my future, _she looked at him, adjusting his top hat, _not doom someone to my fate in place of me. _

That morning she had been so nervous while Hershel had been overjoyed. He had an overly excited air about him she just couldn't relate to. He had gotten a new outfit, not unlike his old one. The only difference where the colors: instead of a dark brown suit and orange shirt, he had chosen a black suit with a blue shirt to match the top hat he now wore and all though he spoke, acted and looked like the Hershel Layton she knew, Claire just couldn't help but think that he wasn't. No, ever since the arrival of the letter, he had become a different person.

"Claire, shall we go in?"

"Hm? Oh, yes…I suppose." She linked her arm with his and walked up the laboratory's stone steps. It was quiet in the building, due to the fact it was a weekend, but a few of Claire's colleagues were there working on small projects or finishing reports and data graphs. The hallway seemed to go on forever, but they eventually came to the door labeled:

_**Room 207**_

_**Dimitri Allen**_

_**Field: Time Study**_

Claire, for the second time, rapped her knuckles against the wooden door. It opened, revealing Dimitri in a lab coat, rubber gloves and goggles placed above his head. "Ah, excellent! Right on time. Hershel, if you would, please go into the back room and change into the experimental suit we have for you, we can be getting on our way." Nodding, Hershel walked past Dimitri and into the back room. As soon as he was gone, Dimitri turned to Claire, "And how have you been?"

"Don't pull this, Dimitri," Claire hissed, pulling out the letter he had sent and pointing to the last line. "How…how did you know?"

He chuckled, making Claire clench her fists in anger. "Before I answer, Claire, I would like to ask you something: what do you think mainly affects time travel? Oh, some might say molecules, the wiring or perhaps the exact point of the wormhole. But no, the main thing that affects time travel is the _thoughts _of the person who is traveling."

"T-thoughts?" Claire couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Yes, my dear. If the thoughts of the person are strong enough, they can alter the wormhole's designated anchor point. Heh, fascinating, isn't it? How both a selfish desire and will to right wrong can be two powerful things when combined?"

Claire clenched her fists at the last part. "Do _not _insult me, sir. My motive was not selfish!"

"I see." Dimitri said, chuckling in a way that made Claire desperately want to scream.

But she remained calm, and, fists still clenched, she said coolly, "Answer me this, Dimitri. If I did indeed go back in the past, how can you remember any of this? None of the future events have happened yet, so you couldn't possibly know what happened on that day. "

"Ah, that's another mistake most people uneducated in the field of time travel make. Yes, all future memories areerased from the minds of people close to the time traveler, and major events are rewritten and/ or changed, but that doesn't mean they can't be _retrieved. _You see, certain pictures, events, even music can trigger a memory of anyone at any given moment. For me—"

"You remembered right after I denied your offer!"

He clapped, "Very nicely done, Claire! Yes, I felt there was something déjàvu about the whole conversation, and as soon as you declined me and walked out of my office, I realized what had just happened. You hadn't turned me down before…so you _must _have traveled back in time and changed your answer! Yes, after that I went straight to work fixing the machine until it was as flawless as could be. The last step was to ask Hershel, who accepted, just as I thought he would."

Claire felt a shiver up her back. This was insanity! This man just loved to tinker with lives, didn't he? She was about to walk past him and call for Hershel (who was taking a dreadfully long time), but she was stopped when Dimitri asked her another question. "By the way, Claire, have you noticed anything different about the room? Anything missing?"

Claire looked around, but could not detect anything. Hershel was here, Dimitri and all of his helpers were here. All that was missing was the time machine located in the next room and… "Oh! Dimitri where's Bill? Actually…now that I think about it I haven't seen him all week. Has he been sick?"

"I thought you would notice eventually. Bill is in… let's just say he's in a better place."

"What?"

"Care for me to explain? Well, you're the new president of the laboratory, are you not?"

She nodded slowly and waited for him to continue.

"Bill had been working unbelievably hard for the past three months, hoping to be nominated for the laboratory's president. He achieved this goal alongside you, but the Head scientist decided you deserved it, due to the constant and flawless work you had been turning out. You were obviously delighted while Bill…well, to him all his hard work had been stomped upon and forgotten. That night, he went to a bar about two blocks away from his flat, drank more than he should have, and began to walk back home. Sadly, he neglected to acknowledge oncoming traffic and attempted to walk across a busy intersection. Before he got across, he was hit by a car and immediately rushed to the hospital. There, he fell in a coma, and, this morning around 2:00, his family decided to pull his life support plug. He died 15 minutes later."

Claire gasped, tears filling her eyes. She didn't know why she felt so sad. If anything, she should be feeling hatred, like the tables had been turned and justice was now served. After all, it had been _Bill _who had run the experiment even though he knew there were flaws in the time machine's system, supposedly killing her. _Bill, _who had caused so much devastation to the lives of people in the apartment building next to the laboratory...and created a media blackout for the entire fiasco! Yet…she couldn't help feeling angry at herself. At first, everything had gone great, but now it was going all wrong. And after all, hadn't _she_ been the one who'd spoken of the consequences of saving the dead from their fate? About the consequences about changing time's course? And look at what she had done! Did that…make her a _hypocrite?_"

Suddenly, Hershel emerged from the backroom in a blue body suit, face slightly pink. "I feel so exposed…like I have another layer of skin!"

Claire forced a smile on her face and managed to laugh. "Oh, Hershel you look marvelous. Just perfect for the test!"

"Excellent, I see the suit fits," Dimitri said, nodding at Hershel. "Now, my good man, If you would just follow me we can begin the experiment."

As Hershel and Dimitri walked away, Claire called out, "Good Luck!" As soon as she said that, she regretted it. What if that was the last thing she ever said to Hershel? Should she have said, 'good luck, _I love you!'_? She shook her head. _No, I'm simply worrying myself too much. Hershel will be fine._ She took a deep breath, and decided that since she was in the lab, she might as well get a jump start on some work to take her mind off Hershel's fate.

For the next hour and a half, Claire worked diligently, working on report after report. For the most part, she was not reminded about the experiment at all (except for one point in which she heard a loud _BANG! _After hearing this she had rushed to the time machine room, saw no smoke or signs of devastation, and realized it was merely a large beaker in the chemical room that had been left on the bunsen burner for too long). Soon, Dimitri came into the room she was working in.

"Good news, my dear." He said, smiling at her. "The experiment was a success! The company is most pleased with our work."

Claire was overjoyed. Her Hershel was safe! And he had made a historical journey!

She ran down the halls, to the time machine, and found Hershel there, changed back into the clothes and top hat he had come in. "Oh, Hershel!" she said, tears coming into her eyes as they kissed and embraced. Finally, the great task was over and now they could celebrate!

Not ten minutes after the experiment was completed, checks from the company had been distributed (so much money Claire was almost _positive _they had misplaced a decimal point somewhere) and a media mob bigger than anything the lab had ever seen were swarming in, attempting to get a comment or interview with either Dimitri or Hershel.

That was basically life for the next two months. Media swarms interviews, people "oooo-ing" and "aaaah-ing" and pointing and whispering, "look, there he is! The man who traveled through time!... Oh, and his girlfriend!" Claire was uncomfortable with all the attention at first, but grew used to it quickly.

Soon, the media rage died down, and the history book-writing phase was in progress. Claire was excited to spend time alone with Hershel (who had just bought a new, rather exquisite house for the two of them to share), but he had changed. No longer did he look at her with the loving stare he had before, so warm and caring. Now, he looked at her like he would look at any other person, and whenever he said "I love you" or kissed her, there was something more to it that confused Claire. His gentlemanly stature had turned into one of self importance, almost acting like he was better than most. As much as It bothered her, she remained quiet, hoping he would soon return to his old self.

That night, the couple had decided to go to dinner at one of London's best restaurants. Dressed in there finest, Hershel and Claire had gone out (with a good number of staring passer-bys), and arrived at the restaurant exactly on time for their reservation. "Right this way," the waitress said, trying to hide the awestruck way she looked at Hershel. Once seated, Claire decided to begin the conversation.

"My, it's been so hectic! Finally we have a night to ourselves, hm?" she raised her glass of wine the waitress had just brought, bringing it forth to propose a toast."

"Oho! Yes, I suppose," he replied, copying her gesture so their glasses clinked together and in unison, they sipped. "Everything has been amazing though…except for…for…"

"For what Hershel? Is something wrong?"

"Claire, you see, everything has been amazing, except for, well, _you._"

She was in awe. She felt words form in her mouth, but she had suddenly forgotten how to use them. She felt dizzy, and even if the whole building had collapsed, she wouldn't have noticed. "Hershel! H-how could you say that? What have I done? I can fix it, I swear!"

"Claire…you cannot fix jealousy."

"Jealousy? You honestly think I'm jealous of you?" _If everything had gone right the first time, it would have been _me _receiving all the fame, not you, sir! _

"Claire," he sighed in the way a tired parent with a bratty child would sigh, "I've noticed the way you've been around me for the past few moths. You've become distant, and it's because of the jealousy. You wish you had my money and fame, and I don't know why. I wonder why you can't just be happy sharing the fame and fortune together, with me."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing and who she was hearing it from. It had been him who had been acting differently, not her! She wanted to scream, yell she didn't have to take this, and she didn't! Slowly, she rose from the table. "I am so sorry you feel that way, _your highness_," she spat, "but you are utterly mistaken." She turned and began to walk away.

He grabbed her hand, and she sucked in a breath. Was he about to apologize? Should she forgive him? But no, all he said was, "I'll bring your things to your flat sometime this week."

She pulled her hand out of his grip and walked out, not looking back. She felt tears brimming in her eyes, but angrily brushed them away. She would not cry here, not in public. She began to run, out of the restaurant, into the night, and towards the nearest bus stop. There, at the empty stop, she let her tears finally come out, sobbing, her body shaking violently due to her crying and the cold night air. She had left her jacket at the restaurant, but she didn't want it back. Let him keep it, for all she cared.

In another minute, her vision became horrifically blurred, so she reached into her dress pocket and pulled out two things: her handkerchief…and the pocket watch Hershel had given her! She stared at it's pristine shine, the beautiful engraving on it's cover and jumped a little at the loud _click _the sounded as she opened it. She took a deep breath, both for comfort and composure. Then, with a single throw, she thrust the pocket watch into the street, hearing it shatter against the pavement, its surface becoming scratched and all its parts spilling out. She took another breath, then stopped: she heard someone else crying. She looked around and noticed a small alley behind her.

Slowly, she walked over, hoping no mugs or rabid animals would jump out and attack her. She continued walking until she came to a small boy, the source of the crying. He was extremely small, and was dressed in blue shorts, a white polo and a matching blue sweater over it, two overall straps hangings from underneath it. On his head, he wore a blue cap. "Excuse me little boy, are you lost?" the child looked up, and Claire's eyes widened: She was staring into the tear streaked face of young Luke Triton!

He sniffled, "N-no, Miss. I-I'm f-f-fine"

Claire heard the bus pull up to the stop, but ignored it. Seconds later, it left the stop. "Well, little boy," she said smiling, "you just made me miss my bus, so you might want to tell me what's wrong. I can catch the next one."

"W-well, you see, Miss, _sniffle, _m-my papa doesn't love me any m-more."

"Do you mean to tell me you ran away from home?"

"A-all the way from Misthallery."

Claire couldn't believe what she was hearing. This little boy was far away from his home and all alone in the city. Claire only knew Luke from seeing him running around with the professor around Clive's fake 'Future London', and in that time her and the boy hadn't exactly had the chance to sit down with a pot of tea and swap life stories. But still, Claire almost felt motherly towards the young Luke, and knowing she couldn't just leave him out here. "Listen, erm…"

"Luke. Luke Triton."

She smiled at the familiar name. "Listen Luke, why don't you come with me? You can call me Miss Claire, by the way. We can go back to my apartment, have something hot to drink, and I'll give your father a call to tell him you're all right, how does that sound?"

Luke nodded, rubbing his eyes with his fist. "Th-thank you, Miss Claire. I thought I would all alone."

She smiled, "Well, Luke, we have each other." She held out her hand and he took a hold of it, grasping tightly. They walked out of the alley and back to the bus stop. As Claire looked at the boy, she thought to herself: a_ctually, Luke, you're all I have left._


	5. The End Where it all Begins

_**Author's Note: The last chapter has finally come. I absolutely loved writing this story, partially because this was my first fanfic, and partially because of the great comments and support ^^**_

_**I've decided to do an epilogue (this one's for you, CullenGirl1918), so look for that in the coming week or so.**_

_**Again, thank you to all who have enjoyed this story as much as I have!**_

* * *

Chapter 5- The End Where it all Begins

* * *

Claire peeked into the room Luke was using for the night to make sure the boy was ok. She smiled when she saw him, "Ah, so those pajamas fit well? Funny story, one of my friends gave those to me, and when I went to wash them, they shrank! At least their being put to good use though."

Luke nodded, and asked timidly, "Erm…Miss Claire? Can you, um, help me with my pajama shirt?"

She laughed, "Don't you know how to do it yourself, dear?"

"Well yes…but I'm afraid to." Seeing her confused look, he explained, "My papa once told me a story of a boy who suffocated while trying to get his pajama shirt on."

_Goodness! What kind of story is that to tell you're child before bed? _Still, she wanted to make him feel comfortable, so with a good nature sigh she said, "I suppose I can help you, let's see…" she picked up the shirt, and as if on cue, Luke lifted up his arms and stuck his stomach out in the adorable way most six year olds do. Laughing, Claire pulled the shirt over his arms and gently tugged it down until his head popped out again. "There, all settled. Would you like me to tuck you in too?" Luke gave a slight nod, and a smile came to his face. As he hopped into the covers Claire had lifted up for him, she felt a sense of tenderness wash over her. She had always imagined tucking her own child in for bed, kissing him good night and wishing him sweet dreams, waiting to see him again in the morning….

Of course, the fantasy had been about her and Hershel's child, but it didn't look like that would be happening anytime soon. For now, she could enjoy Luke's short stay.

Tucking the covers just under his chin, she asked, "All ready for dreaming, Luke?"

"Yes but…I'm sorry to bother you, Miss Claire. But I was wondering if you could sing me a bedtime song."

"Oh, Luke, it's no trouble at all." She sat at the edge of the bed, and began to sing. Luke's eyes were fixed on her the whole time, drinking in her words, and she could tell he felt comforted, secure even. She finished, and he smiled.

"You have a real pretty voice, Miss Claire."

"Thank you very much, Luke. Now, go to sleep, you don't want you're parents to see their little boy tuckered out when they come and pick you up tomorrow." With that, she lightly kissed his forehead and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. Before she left, she heard Luke whisper one more thing: "Good night, Miss Claire."

* * *

Five minutes later, Claire was in her own bed, staring up at the ceiling. She replayed all of the events that had happened since her time travel experience: her refusing Dimitri's offer, Dimitri sending the letter, Hershel completing the experiment, the media surge, Hershel dumping her in a most unceremonious way, finding Luke. She just couldn't believe how utterly horrific things had become. Dimitri had ruined her life, because now Hershel thought she was jealous of his fame and fortune, and she had no one except for Luke. Even _that _had gone all wrong. Hershel was probably supposed to find him in the alleyway, not her! She had just taken one of the last vital things that made him _the _Professor Layton! And to top it all off, she had been feeling a bit under the weather these past few days.

_I thought I would be changing things for the better, but just as it all was beginning to run smoothly, everything went wrong and blew up in my face. _Her eyes filled with tears, and for the second time that night, she cried. What could she possibly do? Go to Hershel and beg for forgiveness? Go to Dimitri and beg for pity? No. She was stronger than that. After all, she had gotten herself into this mess, so she would have to deal with it all.

Quietly, she got up and began to pace the room (pacing always helped her think). _Now maybe, just maybe, _she thought, chewing her lip, _I can rewind this all and go back to the present! Hopefully, I won't have changed anything, and I can just go to the fate I was supposed to meet. Yes, brilliant!...but how am I going to possibly go _back_? _She heaved a tremendous sigh and flopped down on her bed. Her life would continue to be a living hell, from work to knowing Hershel basically hated her now… and all because she wanted to live.

She finally realized Dimitri had been right. She _had_ been selfish. She thought she was doing this for everyone affected by the explosion, but in reality, it was really all for her, so she could continue to be with Hershel. "I really am a horrible person, aren't I. I probably deserve this misery I've created for myself."

"Um, Miss Claire? Who are you talking to?"

She bolted upright to see Luke standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She took a deep breath, "Oh, Luke, you startled me! What's the matter, why aren't you asleep?"

He was silent, then in a slightly embarrassed voice, he replied, "I…I couldn't sleep. I kept having nightmares. Could I, um, sleep in you're room, Miss Claire? It always helped me when I slept with my mama and papa.

Claire smiled, "Of course, Luke. Just remember, the dreams aren't real. It'll be all right."

He walked over and climbed up into the empty space next to her. Curling up in a tight ball, he said, "Thank you, Miss Claire. You're really nice to me."

"It's no trouble, Luke. Now get some rest." Claire lay down too, wishing she herself could be told everything would be all right. In a few moments, she heard the boy's small snores. She herself closed her eyes, thinking, _I'm sorry I did this to you, Luke. Taking you away from the Professor, I mean. Hershel, Dimitri, everyone, I'm sorry for tinkering with time. I just…I just wish I could change it all back. _Suddenly, she felt nauseous, and her head was hammered upon with an intense headache. Her eyes jolted open, and she looked down at her hands. They were glowing. She was going through another time travel.

She blacked out, and she immediately remembered Dimitri's explanation of thoughts being time travels main benefactor. _Please! Send me back to the few minutes before I made this horrible choice. I need to go through with what was meant to be!_ As soon as she thought this, she felt like someone had disconnected her mind from her body. She went into a terrified panic, when suddenly…

_THUD! _She landed hard and looked around. The alleyway. Snow. Could it be?

"She's gone!"

Claire looked up and saw a small speck in the distance. Luke! She had done it… she had traveled back in time! But she didn't have long here. She realized she had to do one last thing before her ultimate fate. She ran to the lit alleyway, where Hershel was. She bit her lip when she saw him: he had taken of his hat, and was staring up at the sky. His body was shaking, and she could hear his sobs. She took a deep breath, then shouted, "Hershel!"

He and Luke both turned around and blinked. "C-c…Claire? I-is that you?" he rushed forward and caught her in a tight embrace. Luke stood there, mouth open, "Are you able to stay?"

She gave a sad smile. "I…No." she turned to the Professor, "Hershel, I must go back to my own time. Just remember: even after I'm gone, I will still love you. I want you to be strong, and know that nothing can part us. Never forget that."

"No." he sobbed, pulling her closer. "Claire, if you're going to die…then I'll be with you until the very end!"

"What?" she and Luke said simultaneously.

"No, Hershel. You can't, I—" but it was too late. Her surroundings were becoming blurred again. In the distance, she heard, Luke shout, and suddenly, everything went black.

She was in the Time Machine. It was growing uncomfortably hot. In that instant, she knew something was wrong. She looked over her shoulder and gasped: Hershel and Luke were standing next to her. "NO!" In that instant, the machine began to shake. She opened the door and as quick as she could, she shoved Luke out. "RUN!" She screamed, and Luke bolted out of the room without another word. She was about to push Hershel out as well, when the machine gave a violent shake, and she heard a loud electric buzz. The metal around her was beginning to overheat, and all too quickly for her to follow. There was an ear-shattering _**BOOM! **_

The world went black.

* * *

Everything around her was so soft. Cracking her eyes open just a tad, she only saw white light all around her. _Am…I in Heaven? _Grabbing a handful of soft stuff beneath her (clouds or something?), she pulled up, and her body immediately erupted in pain.

Claire's eyes snapped open. She looked around her: and IV bag was next to her, a line reached from it and attached to her arm and was secured by bandage tape. Her head, she could tell, was encased by another bandage, and her arm was in a cast and sling. She also had a neck brace, which was extremely uncomfortable. She was in so much pain…but still: she was _alive._

"Ma'am?"

Claire turned to see a nurse with a clipboard and stethoscope standing outside the door to the hospital room. "Excellent, you're awake, Miss Foley. How do you feel?"

"Like I've just been in a time machine explosion."

The raised a concerned eyebrow. "Well...you have.

"No news to me." Claire was irritated by this woman. She was in a _hospital _after being in a fatal accident, it wasn't like she was about to jump up, dance around and start singing. But still, she sighed and asked, "What's the damage?"

"Well," the nurse began, scanning her board, "you've broken your arm and you're collar bone, you have three staples in the back of your head, and ten stitches on you're forehead. You're a lucky one, Miss Foley. Most people don't survive injuries like yours."

_I wasn't actually supposed to survive them either, _Claire thought to herself, then looked to her side. She couldn't believe it: next to her, Hershel lay, motionless. There were sensors on his head, connecting to a strange device that had lines going up and down, each one meaningless to Claire. She looked up at the nurse, unable to speak.

"Are you worrying about Mister Layton? Erm well…you see, he's suffered from severe brain damage."

_Severe brain damage._ Claire replayed those three words over and over in her head, trying to make sense out of what they could possibly mean for Hershel. She needed the nurse to leave. "Um, ma'am, could I please have a glass of water?"

"Of course, Miss Foley, I'll be right back." As soon as she left, Claire hopped out of bed, and after wincing with the horrible pain that had caused, she went over to Hershel's bedside.

"Hershel, Hershel—Can you hear me?"

His eyes moved back and forth behind closed lids, and slowly but surely, they began to open. "C-c-Claire? Ugh…what …what ever happened. The explosion—Are we dead?"

She smiled as her eyes filled with tears, "N-no, Hershel. We're alive, alive and going to get better!"

He slowly shook his head. "No…my dear. I'm afraid, ugh, th-that's out of the question f-for me."

"Hershel, what do you mean?"

He lifted his hand to touch her cheek, "It's your turn, Claire. This time, you get to live."

She shook her head, and then winced at the pain. "Hershel, no! you can't…you can't leave me!"

"I don't have a choice," he whispered. He let his hand fall back down, and the bumps on his heart monitor slowed, until at last, they stopped all together, and caused the machine to beep. The monitor connected to his brain stopped too.

In horror, Claire watched as the love of her life flat lined before her very eyes.

"_HERSHEL_!"

As she screamed out, Luke bolted into the room. "M-Miss Claire! what—" his eyes darted to the heart monitor, "oh my…_PROFESSOR!"_

She looked at him, unable to hide her sobbing. "H-he…he t-t-told me it was m-my turn to live. But it's all become a mess! H-he wasn't supposed to—"

Luke stopped her, "What do you mean, 'It's all become a mess'?"

Shaking her head, she replied, "E-everything that's happened in the past f-few months."

"But…Miss Claire, whatever are you talking about? You were only gone for three minutes."

"Luke, I've d-done something, something t-t-terribly wrong." Without being able to stop Herself, she told him all that had happened. The whole time, he listened in shocked silence.

"A-and now," she finished, sobbing even harder than before, "I've cursed him to m-my fate."

"This is all so…incomprehensible," Luke said, echoing Hershel's words.

She nodded. "It's entirely my fault, Luke! He's gone!"

"No. He's not."

She blinked and looked at the boy by her side. "W-what do you mean?"

"If you're thoughts brought you back in time, who says they can't save the professor?"

She evaluated this in her head. Dimitri only said thoughts could alter time travel, not medical emergencies. But still, if her thoughts could send her from one point to another, who knew what they could do for Hershel?

She took a deep breath and nodded. Carefully, she plucked one of the sensors on Hershel's head, and placed it onto her own. _Hershel, you can't do this! I won't let your…_our,_ life end like this! If you truly, deeply love me, answer. Please Hershel, think of what our future holds! Answer me!_

She waited, but nothing. He didn't stir, he didn't twitch. She had failed.

"It's no use, Luke. He's really gone."

Luke sniffled, his eyes filling with tears, "He was…the best friend I'd ever had. H-how could he just leave like this?"

Claire, not knowing what else to say or do, gave Hershel a sad smile. "G-goodbye, Professor Layton," she gently kissed his forehead. Putting her hand on his chest, she said, "No other man, could have such a kind, gentlemanly heart."

She slowly rose up, and began to lift her hand from his chest. Suddenly, she felt a slight _thump _vibrate under her fingers, and someone grasped her hand. "I do, Claire. I truly, deeply love you."

She turned. Hershel was looking back up at her, his eyes twinkling. Luke's plan hadn't failed…Hershel was alive!

Luke was ecstatic, "Miss Claire, it worked!"

She laughed, suddenly overcome with joy. "Hershel—A-are you able to stay?"

He grinned, and gently pulling her down, they kissed, his lips meeting hers. "I believe so," he whispered into her ear, "I believe so."

_The past is past, _Claire thought as she embraced Hershel. _The future…well, who knows?_


	6. Epilogue

_**A/N: Here we go! The epilogue, basically what I think might have happened to Hershel and Claire after her crazy adventure ;) Enjoy, and once again, thanks for reading!**_

* * *

Chapter 6- Epilogue

* * *

Claire adjusted her blouse as she stepped out of Hershel's car (dubbed the _Laytonmobile _by Luke). Hershel soon followed and offered her his arm, which she accepted. As they walked to the front door, Claire said, "You know, now that I think of it: I haven't seen Clark or Brenda since our college graduation! No wonder they sounded so surprised when I phoned them the other day and asked if we could pay them a visit."

Hershel chuckled, "Ohoho, I think you're right, my dear. We'll just think of it as a scaled down college reunion."

"Yes, that's right. Now how long have they been married?" Claire asked him, ringing the doorbell.

"Fourteen years now, can you believe it?"

The door opened just a crack, and Luke peeked from behind. Smiling, he threw open the door and motioned for the couple to come in, shouting "Mum! Dad! Flora! Miss Claire and Professor Layton are here!" soon, everyone was downstairs to greet them.

Claire immediately ran over to Brenda. As they hugged, she squealed, "Oh my goodness! I haven't seen you in so long! How have you been?"

"Oh I've been just fine, Claire! My goodness, so you finally decided to keep your hair natural?" she chuckled and looked over at Hershel, "I swear, in high school, she was a completely different person: every week she would dye her hair a different color!"

He chuckled as he went over to Clark and they shook hands, saying things like: "how have you been, my good man?" and, "Ohoho, looking good, old chap!"

Flora, who had just come down, rolled her eyes, "Guys are _sooo_ boring. You two should hug!"

Clark blushed, "Erm, Flora, dear…hugging is more of a woman's way of greeting." Everyone chuckled at this.

After all the greetings—and hugging—had been distributed, Clark and Brenda escorted everyone into the living room to chat and have refreshments. As they sat, Claire nudged her old friend, "Well, Brenda, looks like our pairings worked after all!"

Brenda's eyes lit up, "Oh, yes! I remember that night: it was our freshman year in college and Claire and I decided to find a date for each other. I paired her with Hershel and she paired me with Clark, and after the introductions we went to that restaurant near the Thames!"

"Yep! That was one night I won't forget soon: Hershel was so nervous at first he accidentally spilled his drink on me and when he was offering me a napkin, he spilled _my _drink on Clark!"

"I never did get that coffee stain out…" Clark said, causing yet another round of laughter.

Flora sighed, "Aww! That sounds so _romantic!_"

Luke just blushed, "Wh-why are you looking at me when you say that?"

Claire smiled and looked at Hershel, who adjusted his top hat and gave her a wink. She nodded back, and stood up. Clearing her throat, she said, "Well, everyone, not only did we want to visit so we could catch up on old times…but me and Hershel have some very important news."

"Are you buying a sailboat?" Luke asked eagerly.

"No, my boy, the Laytonmobile will suffice for the time being." Hershel said, and Luke pouted.

Claire smiled, "As nice as that _would _be, Luke, this news is quite a bit bigger. So big in fact, we had to break it into two parts. Part one," she said, reaching into her pocket, "Hershel and I…we're engaged to be married." She pulled out the diamond ring he had given her only two days ago.

Everyone gasped, and Luke jumped up, "YES! Now Miss Claire's practically part of our family!"

"Claire, that's wonderful!" Brenda said, coming over to give her a hug. Clark smiled and gave the couple a thumbs up.

Hershel stood up and walked next to Claire, "Another thing: we want you all to be part of the wedding. Brenda and Clark can be the Bridesmaid and best man, Luke can be the ring bearer and Flora to be the flower girl."

Flora jumped up in excitement, "Oh boy! I can't wait! Claire, I absolutely _must _help you pick out you're dress so I know how mine should look! This is so exciting! A _wedding!_"

Claire laughed, "Hey! Don't get too excited just yet, we still have to tell you one more thing. In addition to the wedding, Hershel and I are going to have our first child!"

Again, everyone gasped. Clark was the first one to speak, and he walked over to Hershel and thumped him on the back, "Hershel, you sly dog! Ohoho never thought you had it in you!"

He smiled and shook his head, "It's still a surprise to me!"

"Luke!" Flora said, jumping up and hugging him, "They're having a baby! We have to teach it all the puzzles and games and stories and songs and—"

"Flora, slow down! It's not going to be able tor remember all that as soon as it's born!"

"Don't call the baby an 'it', that's rude! I'm going to call it…Pumpkin!"

"good grief," Luke said, shaking his head.

After everyone had finished congratulating the couple on the wedding, the baby, and after they had eaten Brenda's fabulous luncheon she had prepared especially for Claire, the visit drew to a close.

"Now, my dear, you're welcome in our home anytime, the both of you!" Brenda said as she hugged Claire goodbye.

Flora jumped up and down, "Oh my goodness, it's all so exciting!"

The two laughed and said their final goodbyes. As the door closed behind them, Claire looked at Hershel and smiled, "You know, as exciting as it all might be, I think I've had enough excitement for an entire lifetime."

"So have I, my dear," Hershel replied, giving her a peck on the cheek, "So have I."


End file.
